


Heaven with You

by Stariceling



Category: Welcome to Hell - All Media Types
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kink Meme, M/M, Walks On The Beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 15:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1432816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stariceling/pseuds/Stariceling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sock needs Jonathan's help so he can break into Heaven to see his parents. It should be that simple, but the longer they look the more excuses they find to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven with You

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from the kink meme: AU where two of the characters (from opposing places, like earth/hell or heaven/hell or heaven/earth) get together on a date in the place neither of them are from... and get caught.
> 
> Because every fandom needs at least one first date fic that's a rambling pile of fluff, right?

They jumped the pearly fence and snuck into Heaven, hands clasped together. Inside they pushed through a wall of cool, white fog. Their hands gripped each other tighter as they made their way blind.

It was only a moment before they stepped out into warm summer sunlight, onto freshly cut grass with a soft breeze caressing their faces and shooing away the last wisps of fog.

“Is this it?” Jonathan looked around at the landscape of pavement and smooth grass. They were standing on a grassy median that split the empty street. There were manicured gardens and bushes and trees, all contained neatly in people’s yards. He relaxed his grip on Sock’s hand.

“Don’t let go!” Sock grabbed his wrist, clinging to him as he instinctively tried to jerk away. “You’ll fall!”

“What are you talking about?” Jonathan scuffed his foot on the ground. He had a mental image of Heaven being built on clouds, but it seemed solid to him. “This place isn’t exactly hazardous.”

“If I let you go you’ll fall back to Earth. I mean, Hell works that way. But you can’t just leave me here. It’s full of angels.”

“And you didn’t tell me this before we came?” Jonathan stopped trying to twist his arm out of Sock’s grip, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“It won’t kill you or anything. Probably. But there’s hosts of angels. Do you know how many angels are in a host?”

“No?”

“Well, it’s got to be a lot!”

“But do you have to cling to me?”

“Yes!”

“Can’t you just hang on to my shirt?”

“Of course not. Your shirt isn’t you.”

Jonathan sighed and grasped Sock’s hand again. His palm was already sweaty from just holding it on the way in. This was going to get uncomfortable fast.

Jonathan unzipped his hoodie and shrugged off one sleeve.

“There. Now you can just link arms with me.” He held out the crook of his bare elbow to Sock, letting him switch to the other side. Linking their arms together skin-to-skin worked as far as not having anyone fall. Jonathan got his other arm out of his sleeve and tied his hoodie around his waist. It was too warm to be comfortable, anyway.

Sock pulled his scarf off one-handed and tried to wrap it around their linked arms. Jonathan sighed at Sock’s fumbling, but he helped wind the red cloth around their arms and tie it at their wrists. This way they wouldn’t have to worry.

After all that Sock insisted on holding his hand anyway.

“Okay, so. . .” Jonathan looked around again, assessing the view that was so mundane it felt surreal. “Heaven looks like the suburbs. Is this were your parents are?” He was going to feel really stupid if they went through all that and they were just in some random neighborhood.

“It’s kind of familiar.” Sock looked up and down the street. “Maybe we’re on the wrong street.”

They picked a direction and started walking. A few houses down they hit a cross-street. The layout made no sense. Jonathan’s side of the street opened into the mouth of a familiar cul-de-sac, while on Sock’s side it turned into a street with another median, this one planted with colorful irises. Sock eagerly pulled him around down this street before he could explore further.

There was no one to ask for directions. Jonathan was quickly becoming aware there was no one at all. There were small, drab birds and the occasional squirrel, yet there were no cars on the road, no sounds of voices, and no people anywhere.

Sock didn’t seem to notice. He was busy pointing out possible landmarks, what Jonathan guessed were his friend’s houses. He kept pausing because the houses on either side weren’t right or some other detail would be off, like a tree fort out front that should have been in the back yard.

“Do you want to see if any of your friends are home?” Jonathan suggested. He had a feeling they wouldn’t be, but he wasn’t sure what else to try in this confusing landscape.

“They’re not my friends. I wasn’t allowed to go over to any of their houses.” Sock looked at him as if it was stupid to suggest he would be navigating by his friends’ houses.

Before Jonathan could ask why they were using the houses of people Sock didn’t like as landmarks, Sock had started pulling him to the other side of the street, towards a house with an elaborate rose garden and half a dozen bird feeders.

“That’s your house?”

“No, but come on!”

Jonathan dug in his heels, gripping Sock’s hand to drag him to a stop. “Can we not screw around here and just find your house?”

“But I wasn’t allowed to go in there when I was a kid. Now I could-”

“What did you expect? Who lets kids play around in their garden?”

“I wasn’t playing! I was stalking squirrels. She hated when they got in the bird feeders, so I was being helpful.”

“Don’t you dare start killing things. I’m pretty sure that gets you kicked out of Heaven.”

“Well then who would want to go to Heaven?”

Jonathan looked towards the house Sock had wanted to get to. There were several birds still around in spite of their approach, and a squirrel clinging brazenly to one hanging feeder. “So all of your landmarks are places you weren’t supposed to be?”

Sock slowly looked around as his fingers worked their way in between Jonathan’s, lacing them together. “This is kind of creepy.”

“Let’s just find your house.”

They kept walking, but the next distinct house was one Jonathan recognized. It wasn’t in bad repair, but looked as if it had been closed up for a while. The paint was faded and worn. The shutters were closed, as they had been every time he had ever walked by it. There were even tarnished wind chimes with a missing clapper hanging by the door, a detail he had forgotten until it was right in front of him. And the yard was, as ever, an overgrown marvel. The green was as much clover as unkempt grass, filled with dandelions and poppies and weeds he couldn’t identify.

“I think I would have remembered this,” Sock mused, looking up at Jonathan, who had stopped dead. “Oh, this is yours!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s go.”

“You’re a terrible liar. Let’s go!” Sock wasn’t going the direction Jonathan was aiming for, but instead trying to drag him onto the overgrown lawn.

“I know this isn’t your house.”

“But I want to know what secret childhood desires you’re hiding.”

Sock leaned back, their hands still clenched tight around each other, and Jonathan had to take a few jerky steps after him to keep from falling on his face.

“I’m not hiding anything. My mom just told me not to go in this yard.”

“Are you scared? I’ll protect you.”

“Quit wasting time,” Jonathan complained. He couldn’t let go of Sock, and Sock had all of his weight thrown back to pull. One last jerk and Sock fell on his back, dragging Jonathan down to land on hands and knees over him

Sock giggled under him, running his free hand up Jonathan’s arm. “You’re in the yard now. You’re such a bad boy.”

Glaring at Sock did nothing. Jonathan looked up at the house, the door and shutters still closed tight. It wasn’t like they’d seen anyone else since they arrived here. That didn’t seem about to change.

With a sigh, Jonathan rolled off of Sock and flopped on his back in the clover. It was lucky Sock had decided to tie their arms together. His hand was nestled safely at the inside of Jonathan’s elbow, creeping slowly back down his arm.

“So what’s your deal with this place?”

“Well, for some reason your pitiful whining convinced me to help you get up here.”

“Not Heaven. This yard.”

Jonathan fixed his eyes on a golden-orange poppy nodding over his head. They had always been his mother’s favorite. He tapped it with one finger, making it bob.

“Come on,” Sock wheedled.

“It’s just somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be.”

“That’s all? You had one yard you weren’t supposed to go in?” Sock sat up to glare at him. “I bet everyone liked you,” he grumbled, like it was an offensive character flaw.

“What now?”

“You were this cute, happy, little kid. I’ve seen photographic evidence! All dressed up for your piano thing? Or out with your little skateboard-”

“Surfboard,” Jonathan interrupted automatically.

“Or fishing with your- I don’t care what board it was! I want to know what happened to happy little Jonathan to turn him into this.”

“His dad made him gut the fish, for starters.”

“Stop making me jealous of you!”

“So am I supposed to convince you my childhood sucked as much as yours? Or brag about how great it was? What do you want?”

“I don’t know.” Sock fidgeted with the sleeve of Jonathan’s hoodie. “I just want. . . you had a really cute smile. How come you don’t smile anymore?”

Jonathan considered telling Sock to stop calling him cute, but he realized that would mean he never heard the end of it. “I smiled for family photos. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t the same person.”

“That’s really sad.”

“It’s not sad. Why are you so fixated on this?”

“I thought, this is like a little piece of your memory. It looked like a chance to get to know more, y’know, to learn more about-”

“My weaknesses?” Jonathan supplied.

Sock jumped on it. “Yes! Your weaknesses. All your beautiful, exploitable weaknesses. That’s exactly what I’m after. Give them to me.”

Jonathan felt a wry smile twitching at his mouth, while the same was already spreading over Sock’s face. “There’s no deep meaning. I picked some flowers for my mom’s birthday. She yelled at me because the guy who lives here is apparently crazy. She said if I went in his yard again I’d get killed. You were just talking about places you weren’t allowed to go, so,” He trailed off with a vague shrug.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to kill people in Heaven.”

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to kill people back home, either.”

“So what was it like?” Sock finally left his sleeve alone and smoothed his hand idly across Jonathan’s stomach. “Growing up worrying about child murderers and gutting fish?”

“You really don’t know how to let go, do you?” Jonathan lifted Sock’s hand off of himself, just to illustrate the point.

“Nope!” Sock flashed a grin that showed off his pointed teeth, which wasn’t even a surprise anymore. He took his hand back and flopped in the grass beside Jonathan. “So tell me. I’m listening.”

Jonathan sighed and relaxed back in the weedy grass. He didn’t understand why Sock’s urgency had been curbed by such a stupid distraction, but he found he didn’t mind. He was comfortable here, with the warm sun and light breeze. He could almost just lie back and take a nap.

“I was happy. You wouldn’t have been.” He didn’t really know what else to say. His childhood felt normal to him. Sock was more energetic, more of a people person if you set aside his interest in murder. He might not have been happy just playing music and swimming with friends, but Jonathan had been.

“But I bet you got invited to parties and everything.” Sock’s arm shifted against his, lifting up so that Jonathan was left with his hand cupped loosely around Sock’s elbow.

“Kinda? It’s not like I had- Sock, don’t pick the flowers.”

“I’ll pick all the flowers I want. There’s no one to stop me.”

Jonathan huffed in annoyance, though Sock was right. At least he was just picking the clover, playing around with the white and purple flowers and tying the stems together. “Whatever. I don’t know what you think you’re missing. Mostly it was just my parents knew someone else’s parents in the building so they had to ask and I had to go. And I’d just sit in the corner for a few hours reading.”

“That’s sad.”

“I was happy with it.” Jonathan poked idly at the bright yellow flowers around his head. One dandelion had gone to seed and he pinched it off halfway up the stem without thinking.

“Didn’t you have any friends?”

“Yeah, a couple.” Jonathan blew lazily on his stolen dandelion and watched a few seeds scatter. When his family moved he had started drifting away from his childhood friends, and he had apparently forgotten how to make new ones, but he thought he was doing okay. “Why, didn’t you?”

Sock didn’t answer. When Jonathan glanced over he was very absorbed with playing with the clover, making a quickly lengthening chain and determinedly pretending the question didn’t exist.

He should have expected this. Sock had apparently grown up without any friends and it still hurt. Even Jonathan, loner that he was, hadn’t been completely alone. He should have guessed, but he hadn’t, and now he had no idea what he was supposed to say.

Blowing the dandelion seeds away a few at a time, Jonathan pretended the silence was natural and not painfully awkward. He was normally happy to shut Sock up for a few minutes. He didn’t know why this silence was laying like a weight on his chest.

The silence wasn’t ending, and it was only getting more uncomfortable. Jonathan sat up and tried to shake it off. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

Sock tied his string of clover flowers together at the ends and left it on his chest like a wreath. He made no move to sit up, just turned his eyes to Jonathan and asked. “Would you have been my friend?”

He should have expected that too. Jonathan sighed at himself. “I don’t know.” Maybe, if Sock had been as persistent as he was now. Maybe Jonathan would have let him tag along instead of pushing him away. “Probably. I was a pretty bad judge of character.”

Sock snatched the flower wreath from his chest and popped up, dropping it on onto Jonathan’s head like a crown. “It’s a symbol of our friendship,” he announced, pouncing on him in a hug.

“I’m never going to be your friend now. You’re trying to kill me.”

“Too late. You said you would.”

“Get off of me.”

Sock flattened against his chest, clinging worse than ever. “I can’t get off, we’re attached! I just can’t get away from you.”

Jonathan fell back again with an angry grunt, which didn’t help since Sock just went down on top of him and lay across his chest. “Why am I even helping you?”

“Because I need you and you like me too much to refuse.”

“I do not like you.”

“I’m too cute to refuse.”

“You’re not that cute.”

“But I need you.”

That much was mostly true. “You just needed me to get you in. I’m surprised you didn’t let me go already.” Jonathan flicked the flower crown out of his hair while Sock was busy clinging to him.

“I’m damned. The angels would smell me in a second without you.”

“I’m not supposed to be here eith- wait, _smell_ you?”

“You’re a good soul. You belong here.”

Jonathan turned his head and scoffed. He obviously didn’t.

“You do have a good soul. I can smell it.” Sock pressed his nose into the side of Jonathan’s neck and breathed deep. “Mm, so good angels would be intoxicated by you.”

“Do you think you’re funny?”

Sock smoothed his hand over Jonathan’s chest, right over his heart. “You’re so pure, so innocent.”

“And that’s bullshit.” Jonathan ignored the feeling of Sock nuzzling into his neck with exaggerated noises of pleasure.

“We don’t get sweet souls like you in Hell.”

“So you’ll eat me up. Ha ha, very funny.”

Sock’s voice suddenly dipped into something powerful, gravelly, and utterly inhuman. “I’ll drag you to Hell and defile you.”

Jonathan was shocked silent for a second, staring at Sock’s shark-toothed grin. That voice was so wrong for the cute baby face staring back at him it actually threw him for a loop.

“Who let you watch The Exorcist?” he asked, grasping for a way to turn it into a joke.

Sock burst out laughing. “Oh, maybe I should learn to spin my head around too.”

“Are you done playing?” Jonathan pushed his cuddly tormentor off so he could sit up again, though he did it gently, letting Sock land softly in the grass without losing hold of each other. “The sooner we get this done the sooner we can get home. Before the angels smell anyone.”

“I would have liked being your friend.”

Jonathan didn’t answer. He didn’t look at Sock. He grabbed the flower crown from behind him and shoved it in Sock’s direction. “Here. You can give it to your mom or something.”

“She hates weeds. You should-”

“I don’t want it.”

Sock didn’t try to force it, but he looked like a kicked puppy. Jonathan hated that face more than any other thing Sock did. He sighed to vent his annoyance, a habit that Sock never seemed to pick up on, and tugged apart one of the knots in the flower crown.

“Hold my arm.” He could see the protest die on Sock’s lips. He reached forward and looped the flower chain around Sock’s neck. It took him far longer than he had thought to get the thin stems knotted together again, but when he did the chain held, leaving Sock with a flower necklace. “Since you donated your scarf to keep us from falling,” Jonathan invented, pretending not to see the bright smile on Sock’s face.

They left the once-forbidden lawn and looked out into the uncertain suburban landscape.

“Rather than looking for landmarks, just concentrate on finding your house this time.”

Sock nodded and led the way, half a step ahead of Jonathan. Their hands unconsciously clasped together again. They made it to the end of the block with no luck and picked an available cross street at random. Sock kept looking back and forth at each side of the street, agitated. There was no apparent reason why, but Jonathan could guess it wasn’t helping.

The went another block with no luck before he intervened. “What does your house look like? I’ll help look.”

Talking seemed to calm Sock down. He described his house with little gestures to block out the shape, still looking for it but without the nervous darting glances. A light gray house with dark gray roof, white doors and window frames. Long and low with the garage on the left like this, the right half having a second floor like this. A plain yard with tidy grass and bushes.

It was a completely normal suburban home. Now that Sock was focusing on it they found it within minutes. He dragged Jonathan up to the front door, excited all over again.

“You’ll like them, they’re quiet like you. And they’re going to love you!”

Sock pushed the door open, his cheerful greeting catching in his throat with a strangled noise. Jonathan stumbled into his back as he stopped short.

The front of the house was a flat facade. There was nothing inside but a stretch of bare concrete where the floor would be.

“What happened?” Sock stepped forward onto to the concrete, then turned uncertainly back. “Jonathan, what. . . ?”

Jonathan shrugged. He had no idea what was going on.

“What is this?” Sock looked around at the concrete floor and back at the blank facade that had looked like his house. His lost gaze slid over to Jonathan’s face and he suddenly pounced, grabbing Jonathan by his shirt collar and going up on his toes.

“Hey!”

“Do they know we’re here?” He whispered in Jonathan’s ear.

Pushing Sock off, Jonathan kept his hand on Sock’s shoulder to keep him from jumping up again. “If we were caught I think we’d be thrown out by now.”

“Then why can’t we find anyone?”

Jonathan shrugged. “Maybe they’re not at home. Where would they want to be?”

Sock fidgeted with his goggles. “It’s summer here. Mom always loved going to my Uncle’s place in the summer.”

“Okay. How do we get there?” Jonathan asked, leading Sock back out of the empty house.

“I don’t-” Sock stopped short along with Jonathan. Suburbia had abruptly disappeared, leaving them standing on a plain of dry grass. There were mountains in the distance, a small grove of trees and a few cabins, but nothing in any way like where they had been before.

By the time Jonathan looked behind them the house front was gone too. “What the hell is this place?”

“This is it!” Suddenly Sock was dragging him by the hand. “Well, that was easy.”

Sock found a dirt road cutting through the grass and led the way. Jonathan followed, his hand caught in both of Sock’s so he was dragged into a trot.

“It’s too bad my uncle’s not dead. He’s the best. He taught me to skin a squirrel! He makes all kinds of great stuff.”

Jonathan tuned out a good chunk of Sock’s happy chatter as he was dragged up the road. He really did not need the explicit details of how to make taxidermy art out of roadkill.

They paused at a gate which was latched shut, but not locked. Sock fiddled with the rusty latch and lifted it. “You have to swing on the gate. It’s a rule.”

“Can we just go?”

“Come on: One, two, three!”

Sock launched himself at the gate and jumped up on it, while Jonathan didn’t budge. He put one hand on the gate and pushed it open, still with Sock hanging on it.

“Why do you hate fun?”

“I thought you wanted to see your parents.”

“I can want to have fun with you too.” Sock hopped off the gate and pushed it all the way open. “Let’s ride it back.”

“How is that fun?”

“You’d know if you tried it.” Sock gave him a hopeful little smile. “And I can’t do it if you don’t.”

Jonathan would have argued he gave in because it was faster than arguing, not because of Sock’s smile. On Sock’s count of three they both took a running jump onto the gate. Jonathan had a laugh startled out of him with the rush of motion and wind with Sock squealing ‘wheee!’ next to him.

The gate crashed closed, jarring Jonathan into losing his grip. For an instant he was aware of falling, of grabbing desperately for Sock.

Jonathan landed flat on his back with Sock on top of him. They were clutching each other, his hand grabbing Sock’s belt, Sock’s hand fisted in his shirt collar. Their tied hands were still clasped tight.

“You okay?” Sock slowly untangled his fingers from Jonathan’s shirt.

“Yeah.” Jonathan didn’t know why he thought grabbing for Sock’s belt would save him. He was conscious of the warm skin of Sock’s stomach against his knuckles as he withdrew his hand.

“I can’t believe you’re such a klutz,” Sock teased as he helped Jonathan up. He ignored the silent glare being leveled at him as he brushed dirt from Jonathan’s shirt. “I don’t mind. I’m still happy to introduce you to my family.”

“You can skip the introduction.” Jonathan pulled Sock to get moving up the last stretch of road.

“I want to introduce you. It’s my first time bringing a friend home.”

“I’m not your friend. More like an accessory to trespassing.”

Sock took the lead for the last few steps up onto the porch and paused with one hand on the door. “That’s okay. I know they’ll still love you.”

At least this place had an inside rather than a blank floor. Sock pulled Jonathan through the few rooms, searching eagerly, but it was empty except for taxidermy animals with glassy eyes. When Sock finally stopped, staring into the last empty room, Jonathan steered him firmly outside. He wanted to be away from the dead stares.

“Let’s try the next place,” Jonathan offered, trying to head off a melt down from Sock. It didn’t work.

“What if I can’t find them? What if they don’t want me to find them? What if they never want to see me again?” Once Sock got going he couldn’t seem to stop. “Jonathan, what if they hate me?”

“You don’t know that yet.”

“They have to hate me. They never thought there was anything wrong with me. They wouldn’t listen to anyone who said there was. I. . . I tricked them into thinking I was a good kid, and then I killed them. How could they ever want to see me again?”

Jonathan didn’t know. He didn’t know Sock’s parents, or how they would react. All he knew was that Sock loved them and missed them. That had to count for something, right? They were probably good people, even if they had accidentally raised this little murderer.

“What if they’re worried about you? You’re still their kid, and you went to Hell. Maybe they need to know you’re okay and you’re sorry for what you did.”

Sock bit his lip, looking down and away, fleeing Jonathan’s gaze. “I. . .”

Jonathan thought about Sock’s dawdling, about his assumptions that he wouldn’t be able to find them. “Do you not want to see them?” he asked.

“Of course I do! I love them! They’re my parents!”

“You can still be nervous to see them.” Jonathan shrugged, trying to show it wasn’t a big deal.

“I’m not. It’s just. . . They’ve never noticed me kill something before. I don’t know how they’ll react. I don’t know if they’ll ignore it like they always do or get mad. They have to get mad, right? They’ve never been mad at me before.”

From what Jonathan had heard, it sounded like Sock was the bane of anything he could catch. Had his parents really never noticed that?

“Maybe I’m a little scared,” Sock admitted. “And this is probably the most either of us is ever going to see of Heaven. It was nice seeing it with you.”

Jonathan watched Sock, watched the way he darted a nervous glance up, biting his lip. He was probably expecting Jonathan to say they needed to continue or give up already. One of them needed to say that.

“I want to take you somewhere.”

Sock followed without question, which was good because Jonathan didn’t think he could explain. He led Sock off of the porch and looked out to the horizon. Tall dry grass, scrubby bushes, and mountains in the distance. There was nothing here that he could confuse with anything there, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. This place was inconsistent and unsettling, but he was going to force that to work in his favor this time.

Jonathan closed his eyes, trying to block out the place that wasn’t where he wanted to be. He tightened his hold on Sock’s hand.

“This isn’t some stupid ‘take a trip in your imagination’ thing, right?”

“No. Close your eyes.”

Jonathan blocked out the sounds of insects in the grass. He tried to ignore the dry, dusty smell. He took one deliberate step, then another, feeling completely foolish for thinking this would do something.

And then there was something different in the air on his skin and in his lungs. There was a familiar breeze on his face carrying the smell of brine. He heard the rumble and hiss of waves shushing all of his worries down to nothing.

“Where are we?”

Jonathan opened his eyes to bright sunlight. Under his feet was the weathered boardwalk he remembered, and before him was the familiar edge of the ocean.

“This is where I grew up.”

Sock was silent just a beat too long. Just enough for Jonathan to guess that he had done the right thing, that this meant to Sock what he thought it did. “You were a beach bum?” he asked, trying turn it into a joke.

“Almost. We lived close enough I could walk here every day. I wanted to share it with you.”

That shocked Sock into silence, and Jonathan was going to savor it. It was so rare he could have that effect. He took off his shoes and socks, prompting Sock to do the same, and led the way down to the sand.

Hot sand underfoot and inviting waves revived him, and soon Sock was the one pulling Jonathan down to the water.

His bare feet slapped on wet sand as he chased after a retreating wave. Jonathan was happy to play along when Sock abruptly back-pedaled to keep the next wave from washing over his toes. Jonathan hadn’t played at chasing waves since he was a kid, but when Sock laughed that was enough to let him get away with any childish thing he wanted to do, as long as it made him happy.

Following wherever Sock wanted to go, Jonathan watched him hopping over the faint marks of foam, carelessly kicking up sand and water. Jonathan wondered if this was what growing up with Sock would feel like, if they would have had fun together.

Sock turned too abruptly from a wave and tripped over his own feet. Almost before he hit the sand Jonathan was pulling him back up before a wave could roll over him.

The wave that rolled in was just enough to kiss their ankles. Jonathan was more aware that he had Sock pulled to his chest, that Sock’s arm was wrapped around his shoulders. He had just been doing what came naturally, he defended inside his own head. The instinct to catch and hold Sock, to protect him from shallow waves, was not much of a defense.

The smile Sock gave him was dangerous, but he slipped out of Jonathan’s arms with an innocent question. “So what’s your favorite thing to do here?”

“Trying to swim or surf tied together would be too dangerous,” Jonathan decided. It was too bad. He would love to be out in the ocean again, even knowing it wasn’t real. “But I thought you’d like looking around.”

Sock was not complaining. He was happy to scamper around in the little licking reaches of waves. He tried to rush gulls, only to be foiled by Jonathan’s slow pace. He insisted on poking at a clump of seaweed thrown up near the high tide mark. There were already insects buzzing around it, but Jonathan didn’t mind the curiosity. He showed Sock the little round bulbs that worked as floats.

It was a relief after today to know there was meant to be a stretch of rock that grew out of this section of beach, and to have it still be there when they arrived. He had expected Sock to run up like an excited child because there were tide pools here, but instead he went very still and quiet before creeping forward.

Jonathan didn’t know if he should be worried or charmed by Sock’s behavior. He followed quietly behind Sock’s creeping steps, watching the fixed attention Sock had for the dark, craggy, life-crusted rocks.

Then Sock pounced. All in one motion he had his fingers in one of the crevices and out again with a startled yip. He had grabbed one of the small black crabs that lived among rocks, but the crab had grabbed him back.

“Sock, what are you doing!” Jonathan had to remove the crab from Sock’s hand and put it safely back on the rock. It waved its claws at them threateningly until it could escape into a new crevice.

“I just wanted to catch something.”

“We went over this: don’t try to kill things in Heaven.”

Sock sulked, but he didn’t protest.

“I promise you can enjoy yourself without killing something.”

“I know.” Sock’s hand squeezed his. “I was already enjoying myself.”

“Good.” Why did that make him feel nervous? Jonathan concentrated on giving Sock the tour. It was about an hour shy of low tide, a good time to be here.

It felt like elementary school stuff to Jonathan, but for Sock even the most basic things were new. He poked at the giant clumps of muscles. He stared at the rocks textured with barnacles while Jonathan pointed out a few open pores that marked the dead animals. Sock tried and failed to pull a limpet from its rock and clung persistently to Jonathan’s arm after being teased that it was obviously a close relative.

That clingy mood lasted until Jonathan pointed him at the pools with water still in them. There the anemones still had their tentacles out. Sock’s first impulse was to stick his hand in, frightening tiny fish that were stuck there until the water rose again, and poke them.

“They don’t sting!”

Did he stick his hand in there thinking they would? “You’re unbelievable.”

Sock laughed, but he didn’t argue. He made a point to poke every anemone in the pool, making them retract their tentacles, just in case Jonathan was in doubt that he was a pill.

Still, Jonathan was glad to let him look in every tide pool. Jonathan just kept a firm grip on his hand, aware of the places where the rocks were slippery with algae, and enjoyed watching him.

Sock crouched down on the rock, hands tucked cutely under his chest, to watch until a tiny crab he had startled came back out to pick at its meal again. Jonathan had to discourage him from poking the sea urchins he found in one pool, and forbade him from cutting up a starfish ‘just to see what would happen,’ but none of that diminished Sock’s enjoyment.

They went all the way up the rocks and just as slowly made their way back again. Jonathan looked around at the sun threatening to kiss the horizon as he guided Sock down to the sand. It was getting late.

Sock was blissfully unaware of the time. He found a muscle shell in the sand and immediately pounced on it. “It’s shiny on the inside.” He showed Jonathan the mother-of-pearl inside. It was like a strange brand of deja vu, something he had forgotten about until it was in front of his face. He wondered what other forgotten details would tumble out if he stayed here with Sock.

He led Sock back the way they had come. Sock didn’t seem to notice his silence. He was too busy picking up shells. He wanted Jonathan to identify them, but Jonathan only recognized them in the vaguest sense. He could name them on a level of scallop, clam, limpet.

Sock paused, turning the limpet shell over in his hand. “Do you think we can keep souvenirs?”

“I doubt it. Not surprised you’re drawn to clingy things.”

Sock dropped the shell and latched onto his arm. Jonathan knew this was coming but he still yelled and tried to push Sock off.

“If you need me to hold you tighter, you can just ask.”

“Stop that!”

“Never! If I’m a limpet, you’re my rock.” Sock practically wrapped himself around Jonathan’s arm, his nails digging in so deep Jonathan was sure it would have hurt if they weren’t in Heaven.

Jonathan sighed and stopped fighting. He waited a minute for Sock to realize he wasn’t reacting and look up at him in confusion.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not like I can let go of you here.”

It was hard not to laugh at the smug pleasure that softened Sock’s face. He let Jonathan start leading them up the beach again, not clinging quite so hard but still snuggled against Jonathan’s arm.

Jonathan found he didn’t mind. He should be a little nervous with how quickly Sock could snap from cute to killer, but that thought fell out of his mind almost immediately.

“If you’re my rock, that’s almost as good as being my friend?” Sock suggested.

“That’s not even close. A rock’s not going to like you back.”

Sock was silent for a minute. Jonathan couldn’t tell if he was hurt or sulking or what, but after a minute he repeated, “You’re my rock.”

Jonathan had no answer for that.

“We’re going back?” Sock finally asked, when Jonathan had been silent a little too long.

“Not yet.”

Jonathan took Sock up to the boardwalk again, one set of stairs before where they had come in. There was a small shop here that sold overpriced snacks and drinks for the tourists, but of course it was deserted as well. He leaned on the counter and looked behind it, though he had known this was coming.

He nudged Sock toward the freezer case. “Pick out something you like.”

“Are we stealing?” Sock looked over at him reproachfully. Apparently he had more scruples about the idea of theft than actual murder.

“I’ll leave some money.”

Sock took a minute to pick out a rainbow popsicle, while Jonathan grabbed a chocolate ice cream bar and a bottle of water. He left a few dollars behind the counter, like a charm to keep angry angels away.

They climbed down from the boardwalk to the sand again, and Jonathan helped Sock up onto some of the weathered rocks that were left along this short stretch of beach, high above the tide line.

“Do you like chocolate?”

“Hm?”

Sock pointed at his ice cream. “I’ve never seen you eat it before.”

“Thought I’d try it again.” He wouldn’t tell Sock that it was an old habit, his favorite as a kid. This was where he had sat with his friends, eating ice cream and soaking in just a little more sun before they had to go home. The main difference was he hadn’t held hands with any of them. He definitely wasn’t telling Sock that.

Sock was watching him eat. He was used to that, but it still made him self-conscious. “Do you want this instead?”

“No. I mean, I can’t eat anymore, so I thought I’d try as many flavors as I could.” Sock grinned, proud of his plan. Jonathan tried not to laugh. He had just thought the colorful treat was fitting. “Unless you’re offering?”

Jonathan didn’t mind. He held out his ice cream and didn’t even complain when Sock took a big bite of it instead of a lick.

The sun bumped into the horizon and started to sink while they were eating. They shared the water, taking sips one after the other, and by the time it occurred to Jonathan that he was getting Sock’s demon spit in his mouth the bottle was half gone and there was no point in worrying about it.

He let Sock finish off his ice cream while he shoved their trash in his pocket. It was just as good as he remembered, but when would Sock get another chance to taste chocolate?

For a few minutes he pretended not to notice that Sock was done, looking out at the sun sinking into the ocean instead.

Sock leaned against his arm, cheek bumping his shoulder as they admired the setting sun.

“You know, when we’re here it almost feels like being alive again. Even though I’m still,” he pulled his shirt up to show off the gory wound in his chest, still oozing blood. Jonathan leaned back, even though he couldn’t help looking. “I can feel everything. The sun and the water, even gravity. It feels good. And I can feel you! Even if it’s because you haven’t let go of me all day.”

Jonathan didn’t know how to answer, so he didn’t answer at all. He watched the shifting smiles on Sock’s face, happy to nervous and back again.

“Thank you,” Sock added. He kissed Jonathan’s cheek.

Jonathan turned to follow him as he retreated, his mouth chasing Sock’s until they almost touched. He froze at the last second. Sock was staring wide-eyed at him, lips slightly parted, too stunned to even tell him to back off.

Jonathan knew it was a bad idea. He knew and he had more than enough time to be aware that it was a bad idea and change his mind.

He finished the movement and pecked Sock on the lips. One instant of giving in to brainless impulse and he pulled himself back. He tried to distance himself from Sock, ignoring his half-closed eyes and pursed lips.

Except Sock followed. Sock whispered his name like the most innocent of questions and he was frozen again.

“Sorry.”

Sock considered this for a moment, then delivered his verdict as a deliberate kiss pressed to Jonathan’s mouth.

“Sorry,” he parroted, not retreating from Jonathan’s personal space at all.

“When are you ever sorry?”

“I can be sorry.” Sock’s gaze dipped from Jonathan’s eyes to his mouth then flicked back up again. “I. . . have never been less sorry.”

Jonathan managed a scrap of halting laughter. “So I had that coming?”

Sock picked up the thread of his uncertain laughter. “Oh yeah. You’ve had it coming all day.”

Their fingers laced together as Jonathan turned back to watch the sunset. Sock leaned against his arm, head resting on his shoulder, which was more comfortable than he would ever admit.

Color was bleeding out of the clouds, the sky was bruising dark and the sun slashed red across the horizon. It’s was Sock’s fault he was thinking of the sunset like violence painted on the sky. He didn’t know what to blame that he couldn’t get Sock out of his head.

If he kept his eyes on the sunset he could delay having to let this moment end.

Sock had other ideas. He moved up and pecked Jonathan’s cheek, and Jonathan retaliated with a kiss before he could move away. Socks’ grin said that was exactly what he had wanted.

Trying to suppress his own smile, Jonathan looked to the sunset again, let Sock relax against him again. He felt Sock moving to kiss him again and turned to intercept Sock’s mouth with his own.

He nearly missed, but Sock still laughed. He bumped his nose against Jonathan’s, prompting him to laugh too.

It was just a game. He was just playing along with Sock. It was nothing so serious he should even call it a kiss. Even when Sock leaned into him with the kiss, watching him through half-lidded eyes and lingering against his lips.

Several breaths separated them before they met again. Sock made a noise deep in his throat. Jonathan caught himself slipping a hand around the back of Sock’s neck. As they pressed close to each other some line must have been crossed, because Jonathan found himself sharing short, unsteady breaths with Sock. One more kiss and suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore. It felt too sincere to call a game, even if he could have kept playing all night.

Jonathan wasn’t going to put words to what was hammering around in his heart. This was a memory he intended to take home with him and bury it very, very deep, so it would never escape.

“It’s getting dark,” he said. “Stop playing around and let’s finish what we came here to do.”

Sock shivered, held his mouth up to be kissed, as if Jonathan’s mouth was more important than his words. It took him another minute to shake himself out of it and respond. “Yeah. I guess we should.”

Jonathan slipped down from his rock first and put a steadying hand at Sock’s waist to help him down. Sock still nearly fell on him. For a moment Jonathan was busy trying to keep his balance, and for a moment after he was aware only of Sock clutching his shoulder, and the fact that he was somehow hugging Sock against himself again.

They eased apart so that only their hands were clasped together. Jonathan was the first to break the expectant stare they were sharing, turning away and leading Sock back up the beach.

“Thank you,” Sock told him, bumping into his arm. Jonathan couldn’t tell if that was a friendly gesture or just Sock stumbling on the sand.

“No problem. I fall if I let you go, right?”

“I mean thank you for today. I understand why people want to get to heaven so bad. If. . . if they could have someone like you-”

“I’m not-”

“I know!” Sock stopped dead at the base of the stairs, dragging Jonathan to a stop as well. “I know you’re not my friend! I know you don’t even like me! That’s why I’m saying thank you, for pretending.”

Jonathan didn’t like what he was seeing in Sock’s face. He wanted to say something to fix it, but it was true, wasn’t it? They weren’t friends. They should hate each other. He saw Sock taking a deep breath to continue his tirade and interrupted.

“You’re welcome.”

That killed whatever Sock had been about to say. It wasn’t the right thing to say. Even he knew that. After a moment he gave Sock’s hand a tug and they started climbing in silence.

“You deserved a taste of heaven,” Jonathan said, halfway up. “You deserve to be happy sometimes, okay?” He didn’t know how else to express it. He could say he hated the black-and-white view of Heaven and Hell, that bad as Sock was maybe he still deserved a chance. It was true, after all. He couldn’t bring himself to say that he had wanted to see Sock happy, even though that was also true.

“You too! I’m glad you came with me today, because I like seeing you happy.”

“Don’t do that.” They made it up to the walkway and turned towards the water station where they had left their shoes. The boards under their feet were still warm from the sun. “I know it’s your job to hate me and torment me and everything. I don’t care.”

“Yeah, it’s my _job_.”

“I know.”

“No you don’t! I l-”

“Can we just pretend to be on the same page for once and not argue about this?”

Sock was silent. Jonathan could almost hear him sulking, but his only retort was, “I took you to Heaven. How many demons would do that?”

They found their shoes waiting where they had left them. They washed sand from their feet and Jonathan offered his hoodie as a towel so they could put on their socks and shoes and leave. It was a short way up the stairs over the hill to drop back into the city. Jonathan knew that skyline, knew the evening lights as he left the beach. He knew these streets and the apartment he had lived in, three blocks that way past the first rank of hotels and tourist shops.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the small, warm hand in his hand the last few steps, and when he opened them again he was no longer in the familiar scenery of his childhood.

“Back in suburbia,” he commented. It was more unsettling than before, because there were warm lights shining through the windows of every house and he was sure by now there was no one home. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“No. I. . . What if I can’t ever find them?”

Jonathan sighed through his nose. “Do you even want to do this, or do you want to give up?”

“I still want to see them.”

This place was responding to thought, to the desire to be somewhere. That was all Jonathan knew, but that might be enough to get them there. He led Sock a little way to where there was a barrier of trees between two houses with a gap between them. This felt like it should somehow make it easier to jump from one place to another.

“Try this. Close your eyes and walk through here. Don’t think of trying to get to a place. Just think about finding them.”

“Will that work?”

“I don’t know. The worst that could happen is we walk ten feet and don’t get anywhere, right?”

Sock nodded. He gave Jonathan a nervous smile before turning towards the narrow ‘gate’ and closing his eyes. Jonathan closed his as well and followed. He tried not to think. He tried to think of Sock finding what he wanted. He tried not to think of having to meet Sock’s parents.

Step by careful step, he followed Sock’s lead. He was aware of the scent of damp grass. He tightened his grip on Sock’s hand. Any second Sock was going to run into a tree or trip on a rock because this was a ridiculous idea and there was no way it could possibly work.

A few steps further and he wondered if they had somehow both passed between the tress without noticing. It felt like he was scuffing dirt under his feet, not grass.

“It worked!” Sock burst out, making Jonathan open his eyes. There was dirt under his feet after all, and a lawn of fresh, damp grass not too far away, though this was quite different from standing in someone’s yard.

“Why are we in a cemetery?” This was definitely Sock’s fault, and it wasn’t getting them any closer than they needed to be.

“We’re almost home!” Sock took off, dragging him by the hand through the dark. “See, this is where I buried us.” He paused for a second at three filled graves. “It would be nice if I could show you my corpse, too. But here,” he yanked Jonathan on when he stopped to stare at the scrawled markers. “My house is right over here.”

Sock slithered through a gap in the fence, leading the way three houses down and up onto a back porch. There were lights on inside, and the door opened to Sock’s touch. This time they found more than bare cement inside.

“Mom, Dad, I’m home! I brought a friend!”

The only person there to greet them was a short, black woman in a rumpled white suit. She was sitting in the chair closest the back door, sipping something from a mug painted with apples and pomegranates. Steam framed her head like a halo.

Judging by the way Sock’s mouth was hanging open in confusion, this was not who he expected to find.

“This is my house.”

“Think of it as a copy your friend is loaning you.” She set down her drink and stood. Her easy smile brought dimples to her cheeks.

Her presence far exceeded her height, stretching up too far to be constrained by the ceiling. Jonathan jerked back, tripping over his own feet and sitting down hard. He dragged on Sock’s hand, wanting to get up and run. It didn’t matter how friendly she looked. Some lizard brain instinct reacted only to the sense that she could crush him immediately.

“Fear not,” she boomed, making him flinch before she returned to her original warm tone with a laugh. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re not in that much trouble.”

Jonathan climbed back to his feet. The sheer overwhelming aura around her banked down to something human enough to deal with. Her footsteps were authoritative taps rather than the percussion of thunder he half expected. As she came closer Jonathan smelled a hint of herbs and musk, like incense without the smoke.

“She’s not that scary,” Sock said, but he still gripped Jonathan’s hand bracingly as he asked in a suspicious tone, “How much trouble are we in?”

“Oh, just a bit.” She touched the top of Jonathan’s head, making his scalp tingle. “ _You_ are not supposed to be here yet. And _you_ ,” she tapped Sock’s nose with one finger, “are not supposed to be here at all.”

Sock went cross-eyed looking at her finger.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to punish you this time, since Jonathan is willingly sharing his heaven with you.”

“Wait- this is mine?”

“Oh, don’t worry about the details. Think of it as a personalized-”

“It’s completely deserted. Even I think that’s creepy!”

“Then maybe you didn’t want anyone else around.” She leveled a meaningful look at Sock, who was still cuddling up to him and confusing things. What was she doing, implying he was enjoying Sock’s company that much? She raised one eyebrow at him, just daring him to deny it.

“What kind of angel are you?” Jonathan demanded.

“You’re _Her_. I’ve heard about you,” Sock added, which was not helpful except for the way he said it giving Jonathan bad ideas.

“Oh, does your boss still gossip about me?”

“He. . . complains about you a lot,” Sock ventured.

She let out a rich, ringing laugh that left an unfamiliar pressure in Jonathan’s ears.

“You’re-”

“Call me Providence. Don’t worry. I won’t be offended if you don’t believe in me.”

Jonathan was shocked silent while She turned to Sock. “Now-”

“Is that why we can’t find my parents? Because this is Jonathan’s Heaven?” He moved forward, fixing Her with his big, deceptively innocent eyes. “Can I see them?”

“It’s time for you to go home.”

Jonathan ignored Sock’s wheedling. He was trying to put together a response for that comment. He kept opening his mouth only to have the words get stuck in his throat. ‘How the hell do you have this set-up for an atheist?’ ‘You can’t be God. You’re a person.’ ‘If you’re so all-seeing then why did you let us run around in here all day?’

Providence finally interrupted the mental circle he was stuck on. “Ponder the theological implications later, Hon. You look like a goldfish.”

Sock was still pursuing his goal. Sort of. “They don’t want to see me, do they?”

“No.” She sighed, one hand to Her temple as if Sock was giving Her a headache. “And you can’t see them as long as they don’t.”

The noise Sock made before he cried was painful. He darted forward and latched onto Providence, dragging Jonathan’s arm with him.

“They hate me?” he whined.

“Dammit Sock,” Jonathan yelled before remembering his company. “Um, shit, sorry.”

“Happens all the time.” Providence was even understanding enough to pat Sock on the back rather than smiting him.

“I’m sure they don’t hate you,” Jonathan butted in, since he was physically being dragged into this already. “They’re probably just mad you killed them. I mean-”

“Will you tell them I’m sorry?” Sock pleaded.

“Are you sorry?”

The little pitiful noises tapered off and Sock was very still for a moment, breathing slowly and not showing his face.

“No,” he finally admitted. “I’m not sorry I went to Hell. I’m better this way. I think I was always supposed to be a demon.”

Something happened to Providence’s expression. It was nothing Jonathan could define by Her features, more than storm clouds in Her eyes. Something great and terrible came over Her.

Jonathan snatched Sock back from Her and shoved Sock’s face into his shirt instead. Ignoring the undignified squawk of protest, he wrapped his free arm around the back of Sock’s neck to protect him. He was somewhere beyond the lizard-brain instinct to flee. All Jonathan knew was he wasn’t capable of hating Sock enough to let him face this.

“Jonathan.” Her voice hit octaves that he shouldn’t be able to hear, and Jonathan shifted his arm up, trying to physically block Sock’s ears. “I’m not angry with you.”

“I know.” Jonathan still retreated. He dragged Sock with him until his back hit the wall and he couldn’t go any further. He knew he wasn’t in trouble. He knew he wasn’t in danger. But he was overpowered by the feeling that worse than Hell would be unleashed on Sock if he let go.

Providence sighed, one hand braced on Her hip while the other reached up to rub Her temples. It was an undeniably human sound, almost exactly the note Jonathan’s mother hit when she was exasperated.

“And this is exactly why I didn’t send an angel,” She muttered to Herself.

“Hey.” Jonathan rubbed the back of Sock’s neck, trying to calm him when he started squirming around to extricate his face from Jonathan’s shirt. “So, this is me, assuming I don’t completely fuck up. Uh,” he would have to work on the whole swearing at higher powers thing. “Could Sock come visit me if I wanted him to?”

It was a many-layered question, he tried to tell himself. About Heaven’s tolerance policy on demons, about if Sock could have gone to see his parents if they wanted him. About if he could see Sock again after death. . .

Providence gave him a many-layered smile, one he couldn’t interpret beyond indulgence, amusement, and something deeper he didn’t want to understand.

“Maybe we can talk about this another time.” She reached out and touched Jonathan’s forehead again.

The world wrenched around and Jonathan found himself lying flat on his back in his own bed, still clutching Sock to his chest. It might be a convenient way to pretend it was all a dream, except he was wide awake and still had her not-quite-incense scent in his sinuses.

His scalp was still tingling. He reached up to rub at the spot She had touched, trying to make that supernatural buzz go away.

Sock struggled upwards, out of his loosened grip. “What was that for?” The flowers around his neck were already wilting and falling away into nothing, the last evidence of heaven disappearing.

Good. It was good he didn’t know. Jonathan didn’t want to tell him. “I’m not sure I like God,” he said to himself.

Sock pulled on his scarf so it passed right through Jonathan’s arm and busied himself untangling it.

Jonathan half forgot about him, staring at the ceiling in a daze. It was a lot to digest. Hell was more immediate somehow. Hell didn’t jab right into everything he knew the way this did. Heaven just plain didn’t make sense.

Jonathan had no idea how long he spent staring at the ceiling before Sock drifted into his field of vision. He had about half a second to process that the grin on the little demon’s face could not mean anything good.

“So, I took you to Heaven for our first date. That means you have a lot to live up to for the second.”

Jonathan blinked. Blinked again. The smile didn’t disappear. This was harder to process than God making the same exasperated ‘Jonathan, what am I going to do with you’ noise as his mother.

“We didn’t-”

“You held my hand the whole time. You took me for a romantic walk on the beach. You kissed me while the sun set.” Sock was hugging himself, doing a stupid happy wiggle in the air, until his eyes opened into dangerous slits and his smile turned wicked. “A perfect date.”

“That wasn’t. . . shit.” Jonathan had not thought of it that way until just this moment.

“I know your secret now.” Sock drifted down to sit weightlessly on his legs. “You like me.” The last three words he emphasized in a playful sing-song voice.

This was the first time Sock had found a nerve that really got to him. Jonathan needed to scoff at Sock jumping to conclusions, to roll his eyes at that farfetched idea, to simply not care about how wrong Sock obviously was. He needed to do anything but lie frozen under that sharp smile, waiting to be cut open.

“So, when do you want to take me on another date?”

He could not deal with this right now. Jonathan rolled over, passing right through Sock’s leg, and buried his face in his pillow.

“Jonathan!”

“Go away. I’m too tired for this crap.”

For one blessed moment it actually seemed to have worked, until Sock’s voice suddenly whispered in his ear. “I can wait, Jonathan. I’m yours until you die. And maybe I’ll just let that be a nice long time.”

Jonathan could not imagine a more terrifying, or comforting, thing to hear after their first date.


End file.
